


Better left behind

by Titels



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Supernatural Elements, Dubious Consent, M/M, One Shot, Possessive Tom Riddle, Rape/Non-con Elements
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-17
Updated: 2017-09-17
Packaged: 2018-12-30 21:17:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,298
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12117414
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Titels/pseuds/Titels
Summary: When Harry was young, Dumbledore rescued him from a soulless monster. Now that Dumbledore has passed away, Harry can't help but follow his curiousity.





	Better left behind

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by the song Hotel California (I'm sure you'll notice what parts).

Harry would remember staring at the curtains of his room for hours, trying to grasp the pattern. He would stare and stare and almost have it, feeling delight at having sorted through the mess to find the order. But then he would see it, a different thread rushing through his pattern incoherently and ruin it all. Then it was back to square one again.  
He could remember a deep voice laughing at him during these times, and a strong arm around his waist, pulling him back to rest against a broad chest. Harry would tip his head back and see... Well, he couldn't remember the face, features blurred by memory. And he could barely recall Dumbledore bursting in and pulling him out of the arms and away from there. It was dangerous, the old man said, and thank god you're alright.  
Harry couldn't remember any danger, but he could remember the curtains and how comfortable he'd felt, resting back against that broad chest.

Dumbledore had passed away a year ago, leaving Harry with an array of notes about a strange house and a lot of money. Well, the money might have come from his parents who had passed away when he was a young child. It was all a bit unclear as Dumbledore never liked to talk about it, but Harry knew it had something to do with the few memories he had from childhood.   
The bits and pieces he had gotten only served to alight his curiosity. So Harry found himself going on a journey. He had the money to spend and whilst the old man had always warned him of the house, telling him of the terrible, soulless being that lived inside, Harry had never been able to let go of the thought. Besides, if there was a terrible being in there, surely the man from his memories would need saving as well. Harry felt he owed him that.

Figuring out the location of the house proved to be rather tricky. An old note showed that when Dumbledore had found him it had been in a small town called Godric’s Hollow. But it never stayed in the same place, one moment the house would be there and the next it would be gone. No one ever really reflected on it, Dumbledore had noted, and he believed that it had some sort of camouflage, making the people who viewed it believe that it had always been there. This didn’t work completely, of course, or no one would ever have realised its existence.   
And there was, apparently, a couple of places that it would keep coming back to. Godric’s Hollow was one and close to an old castle in Scotland was another. Dumbledore had notes about sightings and the last seemed likely. Besides, Harry had always wanted to go to Scotland.

Harry found a house that matched the description sitting neatly next to a great lake, looking out over the castle. It was old but clearly taken care of, the stone walls worn by the weather. Figures graced the rooftop and as Harry got closer he could see relief’s etched in a pattern. The house was actually huge, more of a mansion, but the castle had made it seem smaller than it was. All in all, it was a beautiful house and Harry found himself questioning if he really was at the right place.  
Still, night was falling and he didn’t have elsewhere to go, so he pulled up his backpack and headed for the door, banging the metal knocker as he did so. The fastening was made to look like a snake, and for the first time a shiver of fear ran down Harry’s spine. It was as if it was looking straight at him.  
The door was opened by a woman with beautiful red hair. She gave a start when she saw him, but just as quickly her expression changed.   
“Welcome traveller, please come in.” She moved out of the way and opened the door wide.  
As Harry stepped over the threshold there was the strangest squeezing sensation, as if the house itself had attempted to hold him close.   
Then he was inside and the sensation disappeared as the woman closed the door behind him. The door banged shut with a sense of finality.   
“You’ll want a room, right?”  
Her voice interrupted Harry’s reverie and he tore his eyes away from the dark wood of the closed door. “Ah, yes please. I’m only staying one night.”  
She smiled, lips curling up in a bow that was more of a smirk. It seemed foreign on her.  
“Don’t worry, we have plenty of room. This way, please.”  
Harry followed her up a stair and along a long opulent corridor. They were alone, but Harry had the creeping sensation that he was being watched. It was making him increasingly uneasy. If he had had his doubts about this being the house before, well, he was sure of it now. Something was off, even with the gilded lanterns that lit the way or the rich wood of the floor. 

The woman opened a door about midway through the hall, dark wood like all the others. This one had something engraved on it.   
“Please go ahead.” She swept an arm in invitation, and as Harry went in he looked at the door. The carving was of a mythical looking snake, eyes closed.   
Then he was inside and...  
That room, it was… it was exactly like he remembered from his childhood, and there was the pattern on the curtain and…   
A strange calm descended over him, making him feel almost groggy. That pattern… he couldn’t quite understand how it was put together.   
Some part of him observed that a hand was on his arm and that it was leading him to sit down on the bed, but it all felt irrelevant in comparison. Harry needed to watch the pattern, needed to know...  
“He’ll be here soon, Harry...”  
There was someone behind him and Harry was leaning against a broad chest. He leaned back, just momentarily looking away from the pattern to look up at… Tom, that’s who it was. Harry couldn’t believe he had forgotten those red eyes and that pale beautiful face. Those eyes were staring at him so intensely and the hands around his waist tightened, pulling Harry back tighter and his head lolled down, eyes settling on the pattern again.  
“Shh, Harry, you’re back again….”  
"That's right, Harry, just relax," the deep voice murmured, "Concentrate on the pattern."  
And Harry did, watching it unfold before his eyes. There was gentle hands removing his clothes now, pulling off shoes and trousers, leaving him bared. It didn't bother him as much as it ought to have, but he did start as gentle fingers worked their way inside of him. Harry let out a whimper.  
"Hush," Tom whispered, and Harry's view was covered by dark hair and pale features. Those red eyes caught his and they too were filled with the pattern. Harry couldn't help but get stuck in them, eyes blown wide. The fingers seemed to undulate in time with the pattern and it felt nice. He let out a moan.  
In the periphery of Harry's vision, Tom smiled. "That's it."  
And even as Tom disappeared out of view and hands and mouth seemed to touch him everywhere, it all moved in time with the pattern.  
Harry couldn't remember feeling such bliss before, but it was overshadowed as the fingers were pulled out and replaced by something firm yet smooth. The temporary pain was nothing compared to the thrill written in Tom's face as it reappeared before him.  
Then he moved and there was nothing but the pattern and Tom, and Tom was the pattern and it was everything Harry had ever wanted. Tom's eyes glowed red and his hands clutched Harry tight as he moved.  
Harry wasn’t sure how long he had been there, wasn’t sure of anything. The pattern had captured him and it and Tom was all that mattered. But he was alone now, no warm chest to lean back against, nothing..!  
Harry let out a yelp as he fell back on the bed, eyes losing sight of the curtain. The break was but a split second but the realisation that came with it hit him like a tonne of bricks. “Shit!” Harry swore and closed his eyes. He wouldn’t let himself be captivated by it again.  
Dumbledore had written about it in his notes, about the captivating aspects of the strange pattern that wound itself throughout the decoration. One person never saw the same, he wrote, and some would see their death while others saw their despair. Without fail, the pattern would capture them in a world of horror, all but Harry. Dumbledore had marvelled at it, but it didn’t much matter to Harry, because he was just as captivated as all others.   
Keeping his eyes shut Harry twisted his way of the bed, realising suddenly that he wasn’t wearing any clothes. The memories of how it had happened were not something Harry wanted to remember. Tom had… Harry choked, shaking his head. No… he needed to get out of there. Clearly, Tom didn’t need any help.  
Opening his eyes just a smidgeon, Harry found his pants and jeans curled up on the end of the bed and he pulled them on frantically, careful to never face the curtains. In fact, keeping his eyes mostly closed seemed like a tremendous idea.   
His bag had been carelessly slung against the wall and as Harry ruffled through it he breathed a sigh of relief. There didn’t seem to be anything missing. He wasn’t sure what he’d have done if…   
A creak broke the silence and Harry’s eyes snapped to the door which was slowly sliding open. Harry reacted instinctively, reaching into his bag and pulling out the sword Dumbledore had left him. By the time the door had opened completely and Tom was stepping through the door he found himself face to face with the sharp tip of a sword. It felt only as proof of his monstrous nature that Tom didn’t even flinch at the sight of it, but instead raised a curious eyebrow.   
“Harry..?” He said and then smirked at the look on Harry’s face.   
“You will…” for a second Harry found himself lost in the other’s eyes as there was a pattern coming to life there, but it disappeared again just as quickly. He blinked to shake away the feeling, but was careful not to meet his eyes after that. “You will let me leave here!”  
“Or?”  
“...Or I’ll run you through with this sword! It’s not just any old sword, you know. Dumbledore told me of it and it’s the same that he brought here to free me. So back off, or I’ll really do it..!”  
Tom’s eyes narrowed at the mention of Dumbledore. “That old fool got lucky. Do you really think such a tiny object will be enough to make me let you go?”  
“Back off! Or we’ll see just how lucky I can get!”  
When Tom snarled, Harry felt a tremor of fear rushing down his back.   
“Don’t delude yourself, Harry. You can run me through but you’ll never be able to get away from me. Once you set foot in here willingly you became mine!”  
“We’ll see about that!” Harry shouted and slashed out, the sword biting deep. Tom looked shocked, but there was no blood rushing from the wound and a second later he simply disappeared. If Harry hadn’t already known he was a monster, this was the proof.  
Harry wasted precious seconds staring at the spot, feeling conflicted. He had slain the beast, but…   
When he finally stepped out into the corridor it was like stepping into a completely different place. The opulent walls and wooden floor he had seen when first entering were gone, replaced by decay. The walls and floor were both made of stone, and remains of old tapestries hung tattered on the walls, too ruined for Harry to make out what design had once been on them. There were no lamps, no candles so it ought to have been dark but the corridor itself seemed to glow with an eerie light. The corridor stretched as far as eyes could see in both directions.   
As Harry set foot on the floor the sudden cold reminded him that he wasn’t wearing any shoes. He turned around eyes scanning the room. As he did his eyes glanced over the curtains and panic rushed through his soul, but there was nothing. The patterns were inert, dull. Harry hadn’t dare to hope before, but perhaps… perhaps this meant that the beast was truly slain? It felt too easy.   
He found his sneakers in different corners of the room, as if someone had casually thrown them away in their haste to rid Harry of the rest of his clothes. The thought bubbled with memories he didn’t want to consider. His socks were nowhere to be found, so Harry shrugged and pulled the shoes on, before rushing out into the corridor. The beast may be dead, but he didn’t feel like hanging around its burial ground. There was still something eerie in the air.  
That eerie feeling only grew as he left the – still grand – room and entered the decaying hallway. The air was thick and musty out there and the way the corridors kept running on and on left him directionless. In the end he went left, because he had a vague memory that the receptionist had brought him from there.   
The longer Harry wandered, the more panic wanted to rise from his gut and spread through his body. There was no change, no matter how far he walked. Nothing but stone corridors broken only by the occasional rotting wooden door. Harry had bashed one in, but the inside seemed to be nothing else but a prison cell, cold stone walls and no windows. Had he known this would be the case he would have tried his hand on the window in his room, now left far behind. But that would have meant going through the curtain and while he had looked at it safely the thought left him frozen.   
Harry walked, yet everything remained the same. What if Tom’s death had meant he ended up in some sort of eternal loop, trapped there forever?  
Panic wasn’t curling around in his gut anymore, it was twisting its tendrils through his entire body, consuming him. He couldn’t wander these corridors forever..! He needed to get out!  
Harry took off in a run, dashing down the corridor. Still, everything stayed the same and it spurned him to run faster, faster, faster!   
He ran until he couldn’t any longer, fire burning through his muscles and forcing panic to retreat, if only temporarily. Harry slid down to the ground and leaned his back against the wall, chest heaving. What was he going to do? Would he ever be able to get out of here?

Would he die in there?

The thought sent shivers down his spine and not because he was afraid of dying. Rather, Harry feared that he wouldn’t. Ever since he had arrived to this place he hadn’t felt hungry or thirsty and not sleepy either. It was as thought nothing changed. And if nothing changed then dying would be impossible. Harry breathed deeply and laid his head against his knees. He couldn’t afford to panic again, his legs were still burning from last time.   
That realisation made him giggle, and the sound was loud enough that he didn’t hear the quiet click of a door opening. But as it slid open the old hinges creaked and he wasn’t able to avoid that.  
Harry’s head snapped up, heart pounding.   
The sight that greeted him was… unexpected. Red hair and green eyes, the woman who had welcomed him in when he first arrived. She was real?  
But it was more than that. Harry didn’t know why he hadn’t thought of it when he came there, but she was so familiar, and the sight of her made a part of him want to fall into her arms and weep.  
“...Mom?” Harry asked in shock.  
A sad smile spread over her face and she reached out a hand. “Come here, my darling. I… I don’t know how much time we have before he regains consciousness. We must have you out by then!”  
“Wait, what do you mean!? I killed him!”  
She shook her head. “That wasn’t his true form. The house is. I need you to promise me that when you get out of here you light the house on fire! We will help you out and hold him down until the flames consume him!”  
“Wha..?” Harry said, as he slowly got to his feet.   
“There’s no time, Harry!” She said sharply and leaned forward, grabbing his arm and pulling him along. Her hand was calloused against his skin. Harry had always imagined his mothers hands as being softer than life itself. “You need to get out of here!”  
She pulled him into the room with her, another one of the identical cells, and then she closed the door. The room sank into darkness.   
“Shh, quiet now.”   
Still holding on to his hand Harry’s mother pulled him across the cell in quick steps, so fast that Harry was sure they would be heading straight into the wall. But as they walked, the impact never came.   
They walked through a tunnel of darkness for a long while, and every time Harry attempted to ask a question she shushed him.   
“We need to be silent, or we might wake him up!”  
So they strode on and Harry was becoming increasingly antsy. There was a presence in there with them and he couldn’t help but wonder if she hadn’t led them straight into the belly of the beast.   
He breathed a sigh of relief when they suddenly stopped and headed in a different direction, and then a door creaked open. Harry blinked at the sudden light.  
His mother led him out into the same lobby he had entered from, the sunlight of a late afternoon making her hair gleam like copper. It was beautiful but she left him no time for contemplation as she pulled him over to the door.  
“Come on, you need to leave!”  
Even so Harry hesitated. “But… I can’t leave you here! I thought you were dead!”  
Her eyes were moist when she looked at him. “And so you should continue to think. I might as well be. We made a terrible mistake, your father and me, but we will not have you punished for it! Now leave!” The last part was almost a shriek and she pushed him toward the door.  
“But mom..!”  
“LEAVE!”  
Heart in his throat, Harry turned and grabbed the handle. It fell apart under his touch. Harry would have stood there and gaped at it, but was pulled back by his mother’s soft “oh!”.  
He turned around just in time to see Tom stepping out through a rip in the room, the darkness behind him so intense it made him look devilish. And then it was closed and Tom zeroed in on him.  
“My, my,” he said, for all intents casual but for the burning emotions in his eyes, “I must say that was a cheap move, Harry.”  
Harry pulled the sword out again, hastily raising it. “And I’ll do it again, if you dare to come near me.”  
“Oh dear, oh dear… aren’t they just the sweetest when they are in the rebellious phase. What do you think, Lily dear?”  
Harry dared a quick glance at his mother. She was frozen in place, fear written all over. But as Harry watched that melted away, replaced by a smirk that mirrored Tom’s down to a t.   
“Why, you’re right of course.” The lazy drawl wasn’t his mothers. “It is incredibly sweet. I just want to eat him right up when he does that.”  
And then she was approaching him and Harry had a bad feeling about this. But he couldn’t run his mother through so instead he backed away, eyes flicking between Tom and Lily.   
“What’s the matter, darling? Don’t you want to give your mother a hug?”  
Harry wasn’t sure who had said it, and at this point it barely made a difference. She had Harry backed away into a corner now, and unless he wanted her to impale herself on the sword Harry would need to lower it and let go.   
“Mom… please stop!”  
“But I just want to hug you, darling,” her throat were just by the tip of the sword now and it was nicking her, cutting deeper into her skin. He… he couldn’t hurt her, couldn’t..! With a strangled sound Harry pushed the blade away. His attention was so focused on his mother that he didn’t see the victorious smirk that spread across Tom’s face. “Hug you and never let go.” And then she had embraced him, a hug that was more constraining than it was comforting and Harry found himself weeping.  
“Shh, Harry, my darling,” a deep voice whispered behind him as long fingers untangled his from the sword. “It’s okay. I’ve got you now.”  
The sword clattered to the floor and Harry’s empty hand clenched around air. His mother was hugging him too tight.   
Looking down he could see nothing but her red mane of hair, her face hidden against his throat. Huh. The only thought that processed was that he was taller than his mum. She looked so small...  
“Please,” he said, eyes following each and every strand of her hair. “I’ll stay here with you so please… Please let her go.”  
Fingers ran up the length of his arm, over his shoulder and settled around his chin, tilting Harry’s head up and back.  
“What was that, Harry?” Tom purred.   
His eyes were almost disturbingly red.   
“Please let her go. I’ll… I’ll stay here with you and I won’t try to escape if you do.”  
“Hmm… Tempting as that offer is, it’s not possible. Your mother cannot leave here.”  
“Why not!?” The melancholy that had fallen over him at his mother’s hug was fading, replaced by anger. “There’s no need for you to keep her here!” He struggled to get out of the hold and to his surprise he succeeded, only to be spun around by Tom, a strong arm encasing his waist.  
“I can’t accept your deal, Harry. Besides,” he stared Harry straight into the eyes, “it’s not like I would gain anything. You cannot escape from me.”  
And then he was dragging Harry with him, and the brunette was struggling against him, arms flailing and legs struggling to kick anything in their reach. Tom only laughed at his attempts and suddenly Harry was flung, landing on his back on a soft mattress. It only took a quick look to realise that he was back in his old room.  
Then Tom was on him again, strong arms pinning him to the bed. As Tom’s lips sealed over his, he could only gasp, the initial shock rendering him motionless. The feeling didn’t last long.  
With a viciousness Harry hadn’t been aware that he possessed, he bit down on the tongue that was intruding into his mouth and pushed at Tom’s chest with all his might.   
The man – monster – hissed and drew back, only to catch his arms and pin them to the bed. But when he looked at Harry there was amusement and arousal in his eyes.   
“What’s the matter, Harry?” He purred. “Last time you were so sweet and pliant. Don’t you remember how good it felt?”  
Harry remembered the feel of it and it flooded him with humiliation. “You’ll never touch me like that again!”  
Tom smirked. “Won’t I?” and then he descended again, lips capturing Harry’s despite the resistance.   
Harry fought as Tom worked his way down his body, hot lips caressing every inch of his skin. His grip was unyielding, even when he switched to holding Harry’s arms with one hand.   
Still, Harry fought every step of the way, even thought it seemed to spur Tom on.   
The worst part was that there was barely any pain, even as Tom slid his fingers in, not even as he replaced them with his cock. The monster made sure to treat Harry with care, each motion meant only to bring pleasure.  
When Harry finally came it was to a look of complete satisfaction on Tom’s face and he buried himself deep within Harry.   
Harry fell back, feeling everything throb.  
“Don’t ever think about trying to get away from me again, Harry. I won’t let you.”  
Tom pulled back and Harry stared into red eyes that were filled with the pattern. Eyes blown wide he relaxed against the mattress, mind consumed with the eternally changing movements.

Life became a blur of passing time, only interrupted by Tom’s occasional visits. Sometimes the monster liked to set Harry’s mind free from the compulsion and watch him fight for his freedom. It made him feel exhilarated like nothing else. The boy may have been trapped for years, but caught in Tom’s trance his mind would never have the opportunity to ponder. And so he would fight and Tom would catch him and pin him down, watching the sweet anguish in Harry’s eyes as he staked his claim, over and over again.  
Sometimes Tom missed that look Harry had given him as a child, surprising him by breaking free from the hypnosis only to give Tom the brightest smile possible. But that was easily over-shadowed by the knowledge that Harry was now his forever.   
In his lap, Harry shifted to lean further against Tom’s chest.

**Author's Note:**

> I do actually have backstory for how Harry & his parents ended up there in the first place, but it didn't fit the flow of the story... Perhaps some day I'll write a story retelling that (but don't get your hopes up). 
> 
> Anyway, I hope you've enjoyed this!


End file.
